


100 Themes Challenge  #11 - Memory

by Yunimori



Series: 100 Themes Challenge [11]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Memories, broken minds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:21:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24524539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yunimori/pseuds/Yunimori
Summary: Shockwave is hearing things. That's all it is. He's just over-tired and in need of sleep. It has nothing to do with his inner self getting more and more desperate at the things Shadowplay is causing his body to do, over how immoral and wrong everything is. He's not losing his mind.
Series: 100 Themes Challenge [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1527104
Kudos: 13





	100 Themes Challenge  #11 - Memory

“ _Shhh, be quiet, or Quicksilver will hear us!”_

The whispered voice sounded so close that Shockwave looked up and behind him, a bullet clicking quietly into the chamber of the gun welded to what was left of his arm. It was a young voice, oddly familiar on top of that, so Shockwave was expecting at least one of the slave children to be sneaking around behind him, and that child would be quick to learn the error of their ways.  
  
There was no one there. The cave where he’d set up a makeshift lab was dark and empty save for himself, as it had been when he started working.

“ _If he catches us none of us will get lunch tomorrow. So shhh!”_

There it was again. This time, however, Shockwave was facing the emptiness of the lab, and still yet the voice was there. Echoing, as though whispering in his ear; a ghost standing beside him that could not be seen, only heard.

Not even spirits lingered around this place, though. Shockwave had made sure of that. He was hearing things. There was no one there, and the haunting familiarity of the voice was little more than his mind playing tricks on him, a good indication that he was overtired despite paying his body no attention.

He stood, his slowly-healing back cracking and popping as he did, letting that sound banish the lingering traces of the whispers. He needed to sleep and recharge, apparently. Get rid of the ghost-sounds that whispered without ghosts to make them.  
  
He grabbed his datapad, moving from the lab to the corridor and walking down the dimly lit stone hallway without really needing to see where he was going, one claw-like finger awkwardly forcing the screen to scroll, so he could at least finish his notes as he went.

The problem with having claws not meant for his body meant that sometimes things didn’t quite work the way they should. A jitter of the finger he was using, and his notes closed, a different application popping up on the scratched screen instead.  
  
“Lights over Praxis” flashed across the screen. The title page of a book.  
  
“ _I heard you wanted to read this, Bug. Do you want to borrow my copy?”_  
  
Voices again. This time a bit more dear, a bit more familiar, making Shockwave jump mid-step, faltering just enough that he was forced to lean against the wall to keep his balance. The mask that served him as a head jerked up, eye flaring bright as a flashlight to look around the dank, crudely-carved stone corridor.

Again, there was no one there. Just himself, the faint drip of moisture, and a quiet buzz from a low-tuned light preparing to blow its bulb.

There was no one there. No one.  
  
If he were capable of feeling fear, Shockwave might have been afraid just then. But as it was, he could feel nothing, and he shrugged it off after a moment, looking back down at the datapad screen, starting to tap on the ebook and delete it. He had no need for it, after all.  
  
Something made him pause, though. His vision dimmed, a deep, _throbbing_ pain in his head making him want to scream from it, though he kept himself silent by sheer force of will, only laboured breathing showing the pain he was in.

“ _Silly Bug. You know I’ll let you borrow anything you wish.”  
_

_“I know, Pax, it just feels wrong to borrow from you so often. …but I’ll give it back to you before the week is up, I swear!”  
  
_His vision cleared only when he moved his finger away from the delete option on the screen, gripping the datapad with such force that he could feel the worn plastic on the edges start to cave in.  
  
That had been his own voice. Younger. Less…tinned.  
  
“ _Remember the code for the pantry. We can’t come often but sometimes a little extra drink isn’t going to hurt. I’ll buy more anyway, so it won’t be missed too much.”_

“ _Are you sure?”_

“ _Very. I won’t eat lunch the next day if need be. But everybody needs a treat sometimes.”  
_

Conversations swirling around him. Voices he knew and didn’t. Ghosts that had somehow wormed their way down here, in the dark and cold and emptiness of this underground lair.

Memories he didn’t have, yet somehow they kept whispering to him as though he _should_. As though something was _wrong_ and these whispers were supposed to be screaming at him, like he would be forced to remember.

He needed to sleep.

He really just…needed to sleep.


End file.
